Next Time, This Time
by TheLyricsAreMyStory
Summary: Next time it'll be a real bullet. This time we're not going to mess it up. Continuation of 31/08/2018. Carter one-shot. Carla confesses everything to Peter.


Swirling the remaining piece of bread around the deep red remnants of sauce on Peter's plate, he realises the shallowness of his original hunger. Throwing it back down again, a speck of the scarlet liquid uninvitingly splashes from the china and onto his shirt. Thankfully, he was wearing black this time. But he could almost feel the shocking pang of the bullet hitting his skin. For a moment, a brief moment, he'd been convinced it was actually real. Fortunately, it was something he had never before experienced, so initially the panic set in, unsure of what to expect. It was only once he was sprawled across the cobbles, grappling desperately at his chest, hearing Carla's words searing through the air behind him, that he'd realised, despite the familiar looking liquid that coated his hands, the bullet had merely left only a mark on his flesh.

A sudden bang on the door causes him to jump, head whipping around. His mind jumps to the worst case conclusion. How could it not, after the events of today?

 _Next time it'll be a real bullet._

It seemed from the silence that Simon had not heard the noise from the hallway. He was probably stowed away in his room, headphones banging out heavy music to take his mind off the court case tomorrow. Inching his way towards the door, he reminds himself not to be scared. Leanne had gone to see Toyah. And after heated argumentation, Peter had convinced his dad to continue with his plans to endure a classical music evening with Roy, although he was unsure about leaving his grandson under the circumstances.

Peter decides it best not to call out for Simon. The last thing he needed was more worry. Another knock. His blood runs cold.

 _Next time it'll be a real bullet._

Desperate to pull himself together, he tries to mentally resolve whether it was safer to keep the door shut, or to face whoever was on the doorstep. But his equations were faltered, when an unlikely voice muffles his name behind the square of glass.

"Carla?" His brow furrows as the cold air hits him, night darkening as they draw in to the Autumnal evenings.

"Sorry... I didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't." He denies sharply, knowing she could probably see the remaining fear laced into his expression. He shrugs it off, he didn't want to pass it on to her, of all people.

"I uh... Is Leanne in?" Her eyes narrow as she peers behind Peter and he shakes his head roughly. "Only I... Think we need to talk. About earlier."

"Right uh... Yeah, come in." He can't help his automatic awkward manner, stepping aside and letting her pass. He glances down the street warily one last time, before closing the door firmly. "So... To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I'm really sorry for leaving Simon in the factory. Sinead wasn't well and he insisted he'd be ok if he was left." Carla starts to prattle on, not daring to meet his gaze as she paces his dining room. "It was stupid of me, especially when you trusted me to keep him safe and... Well, I never was good at looking after him, was I?"

"Hey, hey." Peter cuts her off, and she finally raises her head. "Don't say that, you were always brilliant with Si."

"...Leanne doesn't seem to think so." The words tumble from her mouth, finally looking up at him.

"Leanne?"

"She came to the factory not so long ago. Told me to stay away from you and him... Which is what I deserve, I guess-"

"She did what?" His eyes narrow in annoyance, triggering Carla to fall silent. "What's it to her what goes on between me and you?" The mention of the sentence causes an instant quietness, Carla fumbling with her necklace awkwardly. _Me and you._ This is what it boiled down to. All the near misses the past week. "...I mean... We're business partners. We can't keep away from each other."

"Yeah you can say that again." It's muttered under Carla's breath, but Peter just about catches it, scuffing his feet on the frayed part of the carpet. She gradually lifts her eyes, fixating on his. "...How are you feeling?" She stifles a small, awkward cough. "After... You know? Being shot."

"By a paint gun." Peter points out, his lips twitching into some sort of a smile. As vague as it was, it was the first time since the incident with Tyler, and it seems to be infectious as Carla gives a small nod, hair falling over her face. Briefly, Peter wonders whether he notices a slight blush of her cheeks, but she is quick to compose herself.

"Doesn't stop the ten seconds of me thinking the worst though." Carla utters, drumming her fingers on the solid oak of the dining table. Eyes momentarily falling to the abandoned remnants of Peter's dinner, the red sauce splashed across the blue plate. "...I thought I'd have another casualty on my hands there. It wasn't long since I was nursing Michelle from a gun shot wound."

"You seemed scared."

"Oh I was." She looks up suddenly, the nod of her head so certain. "I was." Confirming again, the silence falls, prompting her to take a step towards him. "When I saw the blood on your shirt Peter... There was a second there where I thought I..."

The clock ticks out a steady rhythm, filling the strangely comfortable quietness around the room.

"...It was paint."

"Well I didn't know that." She swallows nervously. "I thought I was going to lose you."

The words finally escape her lips, a surge of warmth channelling it's way through Peter, amazed at her honesty and the depth of her words. Perhaps she really did care for him. Maybe, just maybe, despite all the mistakes he had made, she still saw something worth saving.

"...Well you haven't." Peter dares to speak first, eyes connected, settling on to one another. "So... You still have to answer my annoying questions about knicker fabric at work on Monday."

"Oh..." She smiles as her head falls back, long shiny hair flowing behind her. Tilting her gaze back to his, her cheeks have become rosy and full, as the smile extends across them. "What a shame, hey?"

"And for the record, Simon really likes you. So don't doubt yourself on that score." Peter throws in, to lift her mood further.

"Well, I'm honoured. Seven years of trying and as I said to him, I've finally got his seal of approval." She takes another step forward, swinging her hand at her side, letting go of the table beneath her other. Peter's inquisitive gaze prompts her to expand on her statement. "He uh... We had a chat earlier. He seemed to think me and you were back together."

"Hey? Oh, I don't know where he's got that from." Peter's smooth composure suddenly falters, awkwardly running a hand through his dark hair. Great, the last thing he needed was his son making him seem even more desperate for her back. "Ignore him, he'll just be making things up in his head."

"Will he?" The words ring out and for a second, he debates whether she's actually said them. But the sultry movement of her eyes from his hairline to his lips, gives him the answer he so desired. "...Maybe I didn't just come here to talk about Simon. Although, I'm going against a lot of people's advice in doing so." She hesitates, teeth catching her lower lip, the way she knew made him weak at the knees. "Michelle told me earlier that I make stupid decisions for somebody so clever... But then again, I've always found the bad decisions turn out to be the more exciting ones."

"Is that what I am?" Peter swallows, inching closer to her, so that they only have to whisper to capture one another's words. "A bad decision?"

"Oh, definitely." She nods, her voice husky as it drops a decibel. Deep green orbs search his face, re-discovering all the elements she had admittedly missed about him being so close to her. The factory had been dark when they had embraced a few weeks ago. Eyes hazy with tears. She hadn't felt like she had as much time as she did now. Although she didn't know when Leanne would get home, or if Simon would come running down the stairs, weirdly, it felt like they had all the time in the world. "But as much as part of me is telling me to fight it, and that part, probably being Michelle, Roy, Leanne I guess... The other part is desperate to not have to be strong for once. To trust my heart and not my head with all its lectures and warnings running around it. Because, do you know what, Peter Barlow? I wish I could hate you. Maybe, a part of me still does. But I can't deny the fact that there will always be something there. And life is too short to let that slip by. I've learnt that the hard way." Her palm meets his cheek, warm, caring as she watches how his eyes flicker between hers, hanging off her every word. "And perhaps I did stage that whole thing with Carina... But annoyingly, you passed it with flying colours."

"Annoyingly?" Peter murmurs, faces just inches apart. He was desperate to kiss her, to feel the heat of her lips against his. The heat he craved and missed so much. The softness of her kiss, that had been running through his mind since they'd both weakened again in the factory not so long ago. "Does that mean you didn't want me to pass?"

"Peter, I'm laying everything I have on the table right now." Her voice is suddenly a lot more serious, firm. "I'm going against what everybody is telling me. I'm going against what I vowed I would never do again. And I need to learn to trust you once more because I hope you realise that you broke my heart."

"I do. I know." Peter's eyes flutter closed in self-loathing, amazed he was stood here, possibly being offered another chance with the most incredible woman. The woman he stupidly neglected and never deserved in the first place. "And I am so, so sorry. And if you mean what you're saying, I'll spend every day making that up to you. Proving to you that I've changed. I'm a different man to who I used to be."

"...Not too different, I hope." Her lips twitch upwards seductively, eyelashes fluttering down to his lips, before leaning in. The pair collide, lost in an embrace once more. It starts soft, catching his lower lip between hers, sparks fizzing down Peter's spine as he's reminded of all the reasons why she was the best person he had ever met.

"Is this you giving us another chance?" Peter finally manages to whisper, as they break momentarily.

"On one condition." She murmurs between kisses, hand gracing the back of his head, falling to his shoulder. "We don't mess it up this time."

"Oh we won't." He doesn't have to think on the response, knowing there was no way he could sacrifice this again. He was the luckiest man on Earth, being caught up in kisses from the woman he never stopped loving since the day they touched lips in her flat, seven years ago. "I promise you. This time, we're not going to mess it up."


End file.
